Leaning slightly to the left, my cheek smushed against my palm, propped up by my elbow, there is really only one word to describe me - bored.

Some days, I’m sincerely into my classes; I get psyched up about what we’re talking about or something like that. But other days, like today, absolutely make me insane.

It’s English class now, and we’re reviewing for a test that’s coming up…but it’s stuff we’ve already learned. I’ve already learned it. All I need to do is look at my notes the night before, and I’m set.

Usually on a day like this, I’d drag out a book or something…but I already finished it in my previous class, which was also horribly boring.

And even sometimes, say, when I’m sitting in my room and no one else is home, and it’s very quiet…that can get boring. But it really doesn’t bother me, because I’m in near complete control of my surroundings. If I see a bug buzzing around, I go and smack the crap out of it until it’s dead. If hear some annoying noise, I go fix it. Stuff like that.

But in a classroom, I can’t really do anything. Because even though inside my head I’m sarcastic and horrible, I’m just so compulsively nice. But when I’m bored, I’m just so hypersensitive to anything, ever. Like the kid next to be, tapping his pencil on the desk. I wish I could yell, “fucking stop it!” but I can’t, because that would be so, so mean.

And the girl behind me, who’s bobbing her foot rapidly. It’s bumping up against the back of my chair, making me bob. It’s driving me absolutely insane.

I sometimes like to imagine how things would go, inside my head, in my pretend perfect world.

I’d turn around in my seat, and glare at the girl. “Do you ever stop and think, not everything revolves around you?”

She would snap her gum and blink. “What are you talking about?” she would drawl.

And then I would say, “Your fucking foot. I’ve told you time and time again, how much it annoys the absolute shit out of me, and yet you never catch on!”

She would look all offended. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem is people like you! People who don’t realize that life outside high school doesn’t care how fucking cool you are!”

But then I feel the girl behind me nudge me, and I turn around and look at her. It's too bad I can't say things like that to her, because she's actually my best friend.

“Hey, Joey, babe, can I see your notes?” Hailey says, with a candy-sweet smile.

“That we’ve been taking right now?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I sigh, frowning. “I haven’t been taking notes. I’m sorry. I’ll start taking them if you want. Or I could ask the teacher about it later…”

I don’t even know why these words come out of my mouth. I hate Hailey’s guts.

“Yeah,” she grins. “That’d be cool.”

I give her an apologetic smile, and I turn to face the front. I close my eyes and sigh shakily, before starting to pay attention to the dreadful lecture as I get out some paper.

--

Later that day, at lunch, I drearily make my way to the lunch line. I always try and wait for the line to get long before I go in it, and I always let people cut. Not only does this make people happy, because they get to go before me, but it also lets me stay away from Hailey and everyone for as long as possible.

The only thing I don’t like about staying in the lunch line so long is that I know that Hailey and the rest probably want to talk to me about something as soon as possible…they always like to see my homework for some class. But then again, I do drop my backpack off at the table first, so they can go through it if they want.

But then, there’s the chance what they want is in my locker…that’s always the worst…they make me feel so guilty for it. Even if they don’t know that I actually hate them all, they do know that I get really upset whenever I do something wrong. But it’s how everybody is, anyway…I seem to be the only nice person left anymore.

I suddenly feel a prod on my back, and I glance behind me to see some darkly-dressed boy. Shrugging I just turn back to the front. But I’m poked again, so I turn around and sigh, irritately, “What?”

Looking at the boy wide-eyed, I cover my mouth with my hands. “I’m so sorry! Oh, I’m sorry, I was thinking about something that was bothering me, and then I go and be rude to you, I really didn’t mean to…oh, but you don’t have to forgive me…”

“Um,” he brushes my babbling off just like Hailey and them do. What an asshole. “You’re Joey, right? You’re in my chemistry class.”

I look at him more closely. He’s got such tight, black jeans on, that I think he’d explode if I somehow made them tighter. And he’s for some reason got a white ribbon sorts of criss-crossing down one of his legs. It looks stupid. Then he’s got a baggy black jacket on the top. What a loser.

“Yeah, I am,” I say quietly, and he is. He sits at the table to the left of me. I don’t look at him very often, but there’s nothing to look at. “You’re Oliver, right?”

“Oh, call me Ollie,” he smiles. “Well, um, I just…” he seems kind of shy now or something. It’s just a nice guy act. He’s going to ask me for homework. “Well, you’re getting a good grade, right? Mr. Moore always compliments you on like, such a great job.”

He chuckles lightly. I inward roll my eyes. I outward smile shyly. “Oh, not really…I just do the work…”

“Well…I was wondering…Like I’m getting a bad grade in that class, and I thought maybe you would help me out. Everyone else in that class is so obnoxious. You’re the only one I’d really want…to, you know…help me. If you want to.”

I want to yell. Like I need another baby to take care of. But actually, my grade slipped to a high B in that class, and so maybe tutoring this kid would get me some extra credit.

“Oh, I’d love to!” I reply. “It’d be my pleasure. Would you rather have me help you on campus sometime, or maybe the library, or…?”

“Well, maybe you could come to my house,” he suggests. I want to shoot him in the face. As though this couldn’t be worse!

“Yeah, that’d be fine,” I beam at him. “Where do you live?”

He told me the street, and it was actually pretty close to the school. It just passes as walking distance.

“So, the address is 3477,” he says, and pulls a pen out of his back pocket. He takes my hand—he actually reaches out and touches my hand, without any forewarning or asking of approval. I mean, really! We’ve just met! His hands feel so gross.

But anyway, he writes his address on my hand, and then lets go of it. He smiles at me as he slips his pen away.

By this point, we’re actually in the cafeteria, just about into the room were there are more lines; the ones you go in and actually choose your food in.

We didn’t say anything to each other as we got our food and paid the lunch ladies. But Ollie follows me around the whole time, even through the cafeteria and back into the grass quad. See, from above the school is kind of shaped like a C and then a mirror image of the C; in between the two C’s is the grass quad, in empty space of the left C is the concrete quad, and the right C is just…the art building. It’s where all the artsy stuff is. Like, the dance studio, the choir room, the band room, the drama theatre, the tech room, and then randomly, the cafeteria is in the art building too.

Hailey’s table is inside the concrete quad, so I start making my way there. “Um…where do you sit at lunch?” I say to him, trying to get him to get away from me. He kept on walking casually, just a little bit behind me, and it freaked me out. I kept glancing behind at him every two seconds – pointedly, even – but he still just didn’t get it.

“Oh, I usually hang out, um…somewhere near the art building,” he says.

“Oh, well…I’m…in the concrete quad, so…” I mean seriously, take a hint! But I guess it’s hard to assume someone dislikes you, when they just enthusiastically agreed to tutor you…

Ollie smiles. “It’s no problem. I’ll check out your friends, see if they’re worth you,” he laughs.

Oh, ha ha ha. Quite the riot. It’s a good thing I hate this guy, or else I’d be so embarrassed to show him I hang with Hailey.

I took him to the table, full of brightly-dressed airheads. Ollie already was sticking out amongst us. “Hey, guys,” I say cheerfully. “This is Oliver, in my chemistry class. I’m tutoring him!”

A few people give him looks before saying general phrases in greeting.

“Hey,” Ollie grins. “Call me Ollie. I just thought I’d pop over and say hi…but I’ll take my leave now.”

I inwardly sigh in relief. I outwardly drop my shoulders and pout at Ollie. “Well, I’ll see you later, Ollie,” I smile.

“Yeah,” he beams. “Oh, hey, did you want to get together after school today? Or whenever?”

“Oh, I can’t do weekdays,” I frown. “But this Saturday is fine. Noon-ish?”

“Awesome. See you then!” Ollie waves cheerfully, before leaving. When I look away, I can still see his face very clearly, as I sit down next to Hailey. I see his light and swishy black hair, that just falls in his eyes. And the chunky lip ring off to the right of his mouth.

What a dick-wad. He probably does drugs after school all the time. And he has one-night stands all the time. And he definitely looks like he is seriously selfish all the time.

More often than not, I imagine things that happen in my pretend imperfect world, and now I can see Ollie sitting against the wall of the art building. Maybe sitting in the corner. Yeah, a corner. And he would have a bunch of friends sitting around him, all dressed in black like him. And a lot of them would have headphones on; listening to some shitty death metal or some shit.

A few of them would be smoking cigarettes. They would be laughing about stupid pranks that they recently pulled. Or, no – they would be laughing about stupid pranks they had pulled a long time ago. ‘You remember that time…?’ ‘Oh, it was so funny when…!’ That kind of shit.

And Ollie would be talking about how there was this stupid boy he’d suckered into tutoring him. Ollie would say how the boy was clumsy and stupid, and he’d say how he only asked just to make fun of him, and laugh at him as he stumbles around clumsily.

One of Ollie’s friends would say, “I bet you’re talking about Joey!” Because the tutor boy is such a renowned failure. Everyone knows about how inept he is, and how the only thing that he can do right is homework, for others to copy off of.

Everyone would get a good laugh at this, and Ollie would take another long drag on his cigarette, with a smile still on his face.

Hailey shoves me. “Dude! I need to see your history work! Are you listening?”

I sneer, imagining the cigarette getting snagged on Ollie’s lip ring. His eyes would widen, and he’d sputter. “Shit!” He’d tug at it, and blood would trickle from the piercing.

Hailey sighs, forcefully pulling my messenger bag away from me. I glance up at her. “Is your history stuff in here?”

“Oh, yes,” I smile. “It’s in the blue folder.”

“Damn, man,” she huffs, yanking out the paper, shredding the side of it.

--

After school that day, I walk the short distance to my home. My parents are pretty chill…all they want is for me to be home on weekdays, get A’s and B’s, and keep my room clean. Luckily, I already keep my room meticulously tidy on my own, so that’s easy. I don’t have any real friends, so I’m home all the time. And that leaves me with nothing to do but my homework, so I’m good on all counts.

But then I get to thinking of Ollie. Today’s Thursday, so it doesn’t leave much time until I have to see him on Saturday. The only thing I like about going to other peoples’ houses is looking at their things and their way of life. It’s amazing how differently people live.

Now I start to think about how Ollie must live. His parents might neglect him, the reason for the way he dresses. Maybe he only lives with one parent…and they order him around like he’s not really a person…I imagine him yelling at a faceless adult, in a blurry room. Something is thrown, shattered against the floor. He runs upstairs into his room, and slams the door. He puts on loud music and closes his eyes, just lying down on his bed, his eyes closed. He thinks about the kind of life he wishes he had.

Downstairs, his parent slides into one of the kitchen chairs, and props an elbow on the table. They rub their eyes irritatedly, sighing in frustration. They wonder about why their son couldn’t have turned out better.

I can hear the soft clicking of a bike riding by, and I quickly glance to my right, seeing a boy zoom past me. I inhale deeply, and start walking closer to the fence on my left.

In my head, I sort out all of the homework I need to get done tonight. It usually takes me about seven times to sort it out before I can really remember what I need to do. I always use my agenda book, but I still like to keep a mental tab on this stuff.

I try to imagine Ollie’s face in my mind’s eye. I can’t really see it anymore. All I see is a blur with a lip ring. If I can’t remember Ollie’s face, I wonder how he imagines my own by now. I have a very plain face with no memorable aspects to it. Plain, thin, and fluffy brown hair. There’s absolutely nothing exciting about me.

--

On Friday, chemistry class is weird. I don’t know whether to say hello to Ollie or what. I glance in his direction when I first walk into the classroom, but he’s looking down at his textbook. He sits far away from me, so I don’t really have to worry about looking at him anymore, but it still feels like there’s something unresolved between us.

Once the dismissal bell rings, I leave class quickly to avoid him. Chemistry is my last class of the day, so I go to my locker for my books, and start heading home.

“Hey, Joey!”

I stop and turn to see Ollie. Of course. He jogs up to me and says, “Hey, there. Do you have any after-school classes?”

I shake my head, giving him a small smile.

“Me, either,” he grins, starting to walk, and I’m quick to follow. “Want to walk home with me?”

“Oh, I—” I want to say that I walk in the opposite direction, anything, but— “Sure.”

“Great,” he chirps, stopping in front of a locker. He opens it and does whatever (my attention wanders to various people around us), and then we’re walking again.

“So, we didn’t do much in chem today,” he says. “But next week we have a test…so that’d be the best thing to go over this weekend.”

“Yeah, sure,” I reply. “It really isn’t hard once you get the hang of it.”

“I guess,” he sighs as we start walking down the sidewalk, and I make sure to stick close to the fence. “I’ve just always been bad at science. All those different itty-bitty things to remember…it’s impossible.”

“Not impossible,” I chuckle. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll help you.”

“Yeah,” he turns to look down at me, and he smiles brightly. “You’re so sweet.”

“Whatever you say,” I laugh, genuinely.

We walk for a while in silence. Not many cars are going by, and all I can really hear right now is the scuffing of our shoes against the concrete.

“Are you in theatre or anything?” Olli asks suddenly.

“Oh, no. The only artsy class I’ve taken so far is Drawing and Painting last year.”

“You like to draw?”

“I like to paint. Things. As in, I like to paint actual things, like bookshelves.”

Ollie sniggers. “Okay. That’s cool. I can’t really do anything artistic with pens or paints or anything.”

“Ah,” I say as interested-sounding as possible, looking off to the side at the buildings we were slowly passing.

“Maybe abstract stuff…I mean, I like messing around with a bunch of paint, but nothing good comes of it.”

“I’m sure it’s beautiful,” I respond with a smile.

“Nah,” Ollie flaps his hand, but he was smiling, too. “But thanks.”

We’re quiet again, and soon I have to turn onto my street. Ollie and I say goodbye, and he hesitates, but I walk away before he can say or do anything.

--

I wake up at about ten a.m. on Saturday. For a while, I stay in bed, just trying to get used to being awake, and letting my thoughts wander. I’d already done most of my homework…I should eat breakfast and then finish it up…

But I turn over and see my bag on the floor, with my chemistry and French books next to it. Chemistry reminds me of Ollie, which reminds me that I have to be at his house in two hours. Groaning, I roll out of bed and lie flopped on the floor for a moment.

Getting up, I pad over to the bathroom to take a quick shower. The hot water against my freezing skin wakes me up a lot. I slowly wash myself and then just stand under the showerhead, my eyes closed. I hate mornings.

Once I get out, dry myself and get dressed, I head to the kitchen for a bowl of cereal. My mom’s going through the refrigerator.

“Hey, ma?” I say, taking the cereal box from the pantry. “I have to go to a friend’s house. I agreed to tutor him on weekends…”

“Sure thing, Joe,” she replies. “Who’s this friend?”

“His name’s Oliver…he’s in my chemistry class,” for some reason, I hate the sound of cereal hitting the bowl when I pour it.

“Okay. Do you need me to drive you?”

“Nah, I can walk.”

“Okay, then,” she nods. After pouring the milk, I grab a spoon. “Just let me know when you go.”

We leave the kitchen together, and I sit down with my cereal bowl. I eat it listlessly. I don’t dislike cereal, but…I’ve eaten it everyday for quite a long time.

Later, I check myself in the mirror in my bedroom. I feel weird, like I’m completely forgetting something important. I look okay, though, I think…it’s the kind of stuff I normally wear; skinny jeans and a bright, fitting shirt. But it’s so different from Ollie…I almost felt like I should dress more like him when going over his house.

Sighing, I quickly pulled off my yellow shirt in favor of one of my only black band shirts. I grab my messenger bag and tell my parents before taking off.

Ollie lives farther from the school than I do. It takes me about as long to get to his house as it would to get to my house from the school.

Once there, I knock cautiously. I have no idea what to expect. The door swings open and I almost flinch, but I see a short, round woman with an apron on. “Oh, hello there! You must be that boy my Ollie was talking about,” she puts a hand on my cheek, smiling. “Come on in, honey!”

She shuffles away from the door and I walk in slowly. I’m totally floored. I was totally wrong.

She shows me the stairs and says, “Just go on up there and Ollie’s the second door on the left. Have fun!”

She gives me another pat on the cheek and disappears down the hall. I stare after her for a moment before making my way upstairs. At the second door on the left, I look at the doorknob. It’s one of those ones that are long and kind of thin, with a push lock. I would love to open the door and catch him doing something terrible, but I fight the urge and knock lightly.

Ollie answers the door (I mean, who else) and his face lights up. “Hey! Come on in.”

He opens to door to let me in before closing it behind me. “It’s kind of cramped in here, but…”

It might be ‘cramped’, but it is indescribably cozy. There’s a bunk in the far corner of the room, with tons of blankets and clothes on the beds, and a desk on the same wall, with a bunch of shelves on it, stacked with all sorts of things. On the opposite wall is a huge armoire, with things hanging out of the drawers, and a TV on top. On the empty wall-space next to it, there are tons of posters covering the wall until the door to the closet.

On the wall adjacent, across from the door into the room, was a big window with plaid drapes to match the bedclothes. The whole room was really a messy disaster, but it was wonderful compared to my own open and painstakingly orderly room.

“It’s…really neato,” I say, as Ollie shoves a bunch of clothes off the bottom bunk bed, onto the floor, and then sits down.

“Thanks,” he replies, humor in his eyes. “Well, so…” he flops backwards onto the bed. “Quiz me. See how horrible I am at this subject.”

I’d forgotten what I’m here for, but now I set my bag down, and get my chemistry book. Looking at the bed, I decide to sit with my back close to the wall, my legs crossed. I start with the key terms in the chapter, which he seems to get the gist of, but mixes up the definitions with other words.

By the end of an hour or so, he seems to know his stuff. I go through all of the key facts and he recites the answers near flawlessly.

“Wow,” he laughs. “You’re pretty good at teaching.”

I smile, genuinely. “It’s nothing. You probably just need someone to help so it’s not so boring, sitting in front of a textbook by yourself.”

“And it certainly doesn’t hurt to have to help,” he grins, tugging on my arm. I put my chemistry book on the floor, and then lie down next to Ollie.

We stare up at the bottom of the top bunk and I see what’s on it for the first time. Tied to the metal bars holding up the above mattress is a huge piece of white cardboard, with painted images blended together over the whole thing. There are flowers turning into a dragon, and fairies swimming with koi fish, and anything you could imagine.

“Did you—?”

“No,” Ollie replies quietly. “I didn’t do it. My ex…best friend painted it for me. He was seriously gifted. And he did this a year ago. I can only imagine how much better he is now.”

“What happened to him?” I ask tentatively.

“Miles just…well, he had to move with his family…which was bad enough. But then he started acting like a total asshole to me for no reason. I didn’t understand it at first, but now I think it might be because he wanted to make both of us less sad when he left…”

“Why didn’t you keep in touch? You could call each other or something.”

Ollie laughs sadly. “Miles had a weird fear of phones. It scared the crap out of him. Whenever anyone called at his house when I was over, or even at my house when he was over…he would freak out and cover his ears.”

“Yikes,” is all I can think to say. Great job, Joey.

“Yeah…and his parents don’t let him go on the internet. He promised he would write, but that was before he started acting weird, and…I’ve moved within the city, now, so even if he did write, it wouldn’t reach me…”

I turn my head to look at him, and I see he has his eyes closed, a solemn look on his face. Inhaling deeply, I turn on my side, bringing me closer to him, and put a hand on his arm.

He looks at me and puts on a smile, but pulls his arm onto his chest, my hand flopping back onto the bed. “I’m really sorry. It’s a pretty painting; I didn’t mean to get all mopey…”

“It’s okay,” I breathe. I can’t really look him in the eye, so I fiddled with a loose thread on the bottom of his shirt.

Maybe I was all wrong about this guy…I mean, I’ve never actually smelled cigarette smoke on him. And he’s never shown a single shred of rudeness…I always judge people when I meet them though, and I’ve always been right. Hailey was an ass, all of her friends are stupid to the point of worry…

For some reason, I’m determined to dislike Ollie, but inside, I know it’s pointless. At least I haven’t acted like an ass to him to his face, otherwise it would be really awkward to suddenly change my ways. Maybe, hopefully though, he’ll recognize more sincerity in me and be happy about it or something…

I stay for a long time, in which we forget all about chemistry. We don’t really do anything terribly interesting, but it’s really something new for me. I now realize that I don’t have any close friends that are guys. All of Hailey’s friends are girls, and any boys that I know through her are always extremely…girly.

But Ollie is boy and he isn’t in any way connected to Hailey, and he’s actually really interesting. I feel horrible for having judged him as I did.

“Oh, jeez,” he says, leaning back a little. “All I’ve been doing is blabbering about myself so far. What about you? Tell me all about you.”

“Oh,” I laugh and look down at my lap. “There’s nothing to say. You met Hailey…I hang out with her…I do well in chemistry…that’s about it.”

Ollie gives me an odd look. “Can I be seriously honest?”

I nod. “Of course.”

“Hailey is an asshole,” Ollie says bluntly.

Laughing lightly, I don’t say anything. I don’t know whether to be nice to Hailey and disagree, or nice to myself and Ollie and agree, seeing as Hailey isn’t here right now. “I — that was pretty honest.”

“You agree, though, don’t you?” Ollie grins. “I can tell you do. Why do you hang around her?”

“No, I don’t think she’s an asshole,” I finally say. “She’s neato. We’re best friends.”

Ollie sighs. “Why do you hang out with her?”

“She’s been my friend since freshman year,” I say, keeping my eyes on my lap.

“Whatever,” Ollie says. “You can’t stand up for yourself.”

I finally look up, to look at him with surprise. “I can, too. I am right now! I’m standing up for that fact that I can stand up for myself.”

Ollie laughs. He scoots closer to me on the bed and ruffles my hair. “That’s cute.”

I cringe and smack his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

Moving backwards from Ollie, I scold myself. Twice, it’s been twice that I’ve shown how I really feel to Ollie. And both times I’ve been rude.

Ollie smiles sadly. “There, that’s what I want to see. You should express how you really feel…even if you don’t like me.”

“No, that’s not it,” I stand up and bow my head in shame. “I’m truly sorry. I have a…I have to go.”

Hurriedly, I make my way downstairs, not expecting Ollie to follow me, and he doesn’t. I go into the kitchen quickly, and spot Ollie’s mother.

“Thank you for having me in your home,” I tell her politely.

She grins. “Oh, aren’t you a sweetheart! You’re welcome any time, honey.”

I smile and nod, before leaving.

--

The weekend goes by slowly. All I can think about is what Ollie said to me. I hate how he was right about everything. No one’s ever seen through me like that before. I’ve always been able to be so nice to people…I hate this feeling, that I can’t even do what I do best anymore.

I start to feel like I was right in my judgment again. He really is rude. He doesn’t know how to back off when it’s obvious I want him to…

But then I sigh to myself and realize, my thoughts are loudest in my own head. Ollie probably doesn’t realize how intrusive he’s being. He is a nice guy…I try to tell myself this.

By time it’s Monday again, I don’t want to go to school. I feel sick at the very thought. I’m absolutely ruined. I hate this.

But then I finally crawl out of bed and get ready. Once I’m outside of my house and walking onto the main street, I look it up and down, as though Ollie is suddenly going to be there to taunt me and tell me what a failure I am.

Sighing when I don’t see him, I trudge down the street. Light grey clouds are plastered across the entire sky, casting both shadows and cold onto everything. I love days like this, and it lifts my spirits a bit.

Once I get to school, I can’t wait until chemistry. I may not really want to see Ollie, I’m just so anxious about him in general that I want to just go to chem and get avoiding him over with.

For some reason, by passing between second and third period, it hasn’t occurred to me that Ollie goes from class to class, too.

“Hey, hey Joey!”

Instinctively looking back immediately, I spot Ollie and inwardly groan.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” he says as he catches up to me. “You kind of just ran off on Saturday.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I reply quietly. “Sorry…”

“Whatever, it’s fine,” he smiles, as though he’s completely forgotten about it already. “So, hey, what class are you headed to now?”

“English,” I say shortly, thinking of Hailey, and her long, painted fingernails clicking against her desk, and her foot bouncing against my chair…

“Oh, uh,” Ollie looks around, as though our surroundings will tell him what to say. “That’s cool. So, I’ll see you later!”

He turns and walks quickly away. I sigh and continue on to English. I hadn’t seen Hailey all morning, so as I take my seat, the one behind me still empty, I start hoping that she isn’t here today. Waiting, unable to concentrate on anything but Hailey, I just sit and wait for the tardy bell.

It rings, and I let myself relax a little. I figure I’ll wait a good ten minutes before I can safely say she’s certainly absent.

Looking up at the board, I start the warm-up. We always have to write half a page on some sort of random prompt at the beginning of each class. Today it says, “free-write”. Everyone likes free-writes, but I hate them. It means I have to think of something to actually put.

Usually, the prompt will say, “define justice” or, “what’s your favorite holiday?” It’s easy to write about things like that.

Justice is being true to yourself, and being true to others. When someone pursues justice, they’re pursuing the truth, and the consequences that come with it…

Or,

My favorite holiday is Christmas, because it’s during winter break, and we don’t have to go to school for a long time. It’s always really happy during Christmas…

But free-writes…the teacher once said, “For free-writes, just write the first thing that comes to mind, and just go with it.”

The first thing that comes to mind now is Ollie.

Ollie is a really nice person. I thought he was an asshole at first, but he actually tried to break down the steel walls I have set up around me. Sometimes I think he actually cares about me, but then I remember no one cares about me…

Hailey never comes to class. I leave my free-write section for today blank.